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Authors: Ray Garton

Trailer Park Noir (18 page)

BOOK: Trailer Park Noir
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“See? They’re smart little things.”

He watched as she sat on the couch. She tried to find a comfortable position, but seemed unable. Then she stretched her legs out on the couch and cocked one knee. And was she slightly thrusting out her breasts? God knew, they did not need any thrusting.

All that pale flesh ... those pliant mounds under that dark bra ... those long, full thighs ... that exquisite behind ...
 

But it was her face that really held him, her eyes, framed in all those golden locks. That face held him and made him want to reach out and touch her – gave him a palpable urge to move his hands up her body until he got to her face, then kiss her.

His breath came quick and his heart picked up its pace a little. He had to slow this down before it got carried away inside him. He turned away from her and took a few deep breaths before he got an erection.

But it still did not change one thing: He still wanted her, still craved her.

When he looked at her again, she sat with her back straight, but her legs spread wide. Her mouth hung open, and her tongue slowly, absently ran around her lips.

“Where’s your mommy, Kendra?” he said.

After a moment, she closed her legs. “Mommy’s at work.”

“She works days 
and
nights?”

“Sorta. She works with the, um ... I forget what it’s called. They find jobs for her in offices and – “

”A temp agency?”

“Yeah, that’s it. And she dances at night.”

Reznick frowned. “She dances?”

“Uh-huh. Most nights.”

“What kind of, uh – “ He immediately decide that any direction he took with this topic of conversation would be inappropriate, so he let it drop. But he wondered. Was Anna Dunfy an office-temping stripper? She had the looks and the body for it, that was for sure. But how much did Kendra know? She said her mother
dances
, but she didn’t say what kind of dancing she did. How many different kinds were there? Redding did not have a ballet. There weren’t many outlets for dancing in Shasta County. But the one place Reznick could think of where it
paid
to dance was the Mt. Shasta Gentlemen’s Club.

Reznick knew a couple women who used to dance there, but no one currently working the runway and mounting the poles. He did not see it as a shameful job, not in this day and age, but some women were still ashamed of it and did their best to keep it separate from their lives. He wondered again how much Anna had told Kendra – what kind of dancing did
she
think Mommy did at night?

“I’m staying by myself for the first time ever today,” Kendra said. “So I was glad when I saw your car, ‘cause I wanted to come see you and show you Dexter, and ... well, just ... come see you.”

“I’m glad you did. Looks like these two are pals.”

Conan and Dexter were stretched out side by side, dozing.

While Kendra sat on the couch looking down at the dogs, Reznick looked at her. He stood before her in a towel. He wondered what she would do if he dropped it. Probably run from the house screaming. Or maybe she would laugh. Who knew what to expect? She was, after all, retarded. He had to keep telling himself that. Again and again.

She’s retarded, you can’t want her, she’s
retarded
!

But it made no difference to his needs, his hungers.

Hungers
plural
– the craving for alcohol had been just at the back of his mind all day. He tried to keep his mind occupied with crossword puzzles and reading, but it was there, the whole time. That need that came from somewhere deep in his chest. Reznick often suspected that was where the soul lurked – deep in the chest – because he thought his cravings for vodka came straight from there, a soul-deep need that could be satisfied by nothing else.

And it had been with him all day. He’d hoped for a calm after the storm he’d experienced last night. And why all of a sudden were the cravings so bad? It had been a year, maybe a little more than that, and he hadn’t had a drink – why were these cravings rearing up so aggressively all of a sudden?

“We’ll have to make sure they get to play together often,” she said.

“What?” Reznick said.

“The dogs, we’ll have to make sure they get to play together often.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, we will. I’ll be right back, Kendra, I’m going to put something on.”

He felt her eyes on him as he left the living room. In his bedroom, he put on shorts and T-shirt and flip-flops.

Reznick kept imagining resting his cheek between her breasts, feeling them on both sides of his head, so soft-skinned, so plush, so fragrant with youth.

He’d done that with Victoria when he found her. After he’d called the cops. He lay down on top of her and placed his head between her breasts, as if he were listening for the heart that would never beat again, but really just to be close to her one last time, to have one final intimate moment. That was how they’d found him, babbling and crying with his head nestled between her bloody breasts.

Kendra stood suddenly and smiled and said, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Pretty?” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “No, you’re not pretty, Kendra.”

Before he was halfway through the sentence, Kendra’s face shattered like a reflection in a broken mirror. Her smile disappeared and the look in her eyes changed drastically, but subtly – she went from looking happy and childlike to appearing on the verge of tears, or perhaps holding back some painful cry of defeat.

“Oh, don’t get upset, sweetheart, I’m not finished!” he said. “You’re not
pretty
– you’re
gorgeous
. You’re
beautiful
. You passed up pretty a long time ago.”

She gasped and slapped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes became huge. She pulled her hands away and said, “Are you – really?”

“Really. You’re beautiful, Kendra, and you should never let anyone tell you any different.” He spoke in a low tone, as if he did not want to be overheard.

Kendra said, “Nobody ever ... said
that
to me before today.”

“Then I guess it’s about time someone did, huh?” He smiled, but he wasn’t sure it was a successful smile because his lips trembled when he tried to move them. He sniffed and turned away from her. “Can I get you something to drink, Kendra?” he said.

“No, thank you. I should go. Never know when Mommy might come home a little early and find me outside the trailer. I’m supposed to stick to the trailer while she’s gone.”

“Then you’d better go.”

Instead of walking around him, she squeezed between Reznick and the wall, and her body brushed against his, her breasts crushed against him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks had scattered from the friction between them – she felt hot to him. He felt hot, too – his face, his hands. He felt his heartbeat in his fingertips and it pounded rapidly.

She stopped, still pressed between Reznick’s body and the wall, and whispered, “I’ll come back over with Dexter again later.” Then she kissed him.

The illusion ended there. She puckered her lips up like a child and made a smacking sound as she pressed them to his mouth. She smiled again, then slipped on by and left the trailer.

She’d kissed him the way a little girl would kiss.

But with those lips,
he thought,
a little training’s all it would take.

Then he thought,
Should I feel guilty for thinking that?

He chuckled and muttered to himself, “You’ve got plenty of other things to feel guilty about without bothering with that piddly shit.”

Besides, he told himself, it’s true – all Kendra needed was a little gentle guidance, which he suspected she would welcome, and she would probably be a passionate kisser. All the women Reznick had ever known had loved kissing – a few more than sex itself. He was sure Kendra would be no different – she would enjoy it, and she’d probably take to it quickly, just like everyone does.

He’d been haunted by the fact that she lived next door. That at the age of forty-one, Marcus Reznick had been swept away by the girl next door. Just two walls away. Thin walls – trailer walls. Never far away. His mind was like radar – it kept picking her up, showing her to him.

He wanted two things as he stretched out on the couch. He wanted an ice-cold bottle of vodka to drink from to make him numb to the aches and pains of his soul, while the lovely Kendra Dunfy did things to him she’d probably never even heard of yet. And he didn’t have it in him to feel guilty for it, either, not today, when his mouth was puckering on the inside and his tastebuds imagined things like vodka martinis and vodka gimlets. It had been a year since his last drink, but his tastebuds had excellent memories, and they were feeling very nostalgic that hot afternoon.

He thought of her again. That wasn’t quite true – she was always on his mind now, just off to the side a little. Then she rushed up front fast, front and center.

Everything else had been right. The look on her face, whether she’d intended it to be or not, was the look of a young woman waiting to be kissed, to be taken hard in a man’s arms and kissed. Her eyes had been right – half-closed and dreamy. But her puckered lips, the little-girl peck on his mouth – they had reminded him what she was. And what he was becoming if he continued to pursue thoughts about her.

But he did not pursue them, that was the problem. They pursued him.

 

 

 

Fifteen

 

 

Anna Dunfy climbed the steps and entered her trailer. She found Kendra stretched out on the floor watching a game show on the Game show Network and coloring in a coloring book with felt-tip pens. Anna dropped her purse to the floor and spread her arms wide. “Congratulate me!” she said.

Kendra beamed up at her. “Congratulations, Mommy!” Then, a moment later: “For what?”

“They want me to come back.”

“They do? Who does?”

“The people at the place where I worked today.” Anna went to couch and sat down, took her shoes off and rubbed her feet. “Redding Tractor and Lawn Mower. I worked in their office today. Apparently, the woman I filled in for is
always
 out. She knows how to work the system, see. She comes in only as many days as she absolutely
has
to. The rest of the time, she’s sick. Says she’s depressed and can’t work. They’re getting fed up with her, though, and the way they talk, she won’t be there much longer. They want me to start working there nine-to-five. Starting tomorrow.”

“A full-time job?” Kendra said.

“A full-time job,” Anna said, nodding. “Starting tomorrow.”

“That’s great, Mommy!”

“Yes, it
is
great. That means you’ll have to get up early so I can take you over to Aunt Rose’s before I go to – “

”Huh?
No
! No
way
!” Kendra got to her feet and faced Anna. “You haven’t even asked me how
my
day went. It went just
fine
. Nothing went wrong, I’m okay, nothing bad happened. I even walked down with Dexter and got the mail and nothing bad happened. Now, if I can do that one day, why can’t I do it
every
day? And it’ll only be for the summer, until school starts.”

Anna leaned back on the couch and thought about it. Kendra had handled herself well this afternoon. Anna had no reason to think she couldn’t take care of herself while Anna was at work.

“You’ll miss the rest of Vacation Bible School,” Anna said.

“No, I won’t. Not if Calista Hoffman’s mother comes and picks me up and I go to Vacation Bible School with Calista. Then they can drop me off on their way home. They drive right down Stingy on their way to the church and back.”

Kendra clearly had put some thought into it. She was determined to have her way in this, determined to have her independence for the summer. Anna saw no good reason to deny her of it.

“All right,” Anna said. “I’ll call Mrs. Hoffman and see if she won’t mind picking you up.”

Kendra’s eyes widened. “Then I can?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Kendra slapped a hand over her yawning mouth. Then she slapped her hands together and bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet. She bent down and hugged Anna, who laughed at the joy in Kendra’s reaction.

“Thank you, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome. How
was
your day, by the way?”

“It was nice. Just me an’ Dexter. He had a couple accidents on the kitchen floor, but I cleaned them up. Just little puddles. He lets me know when he needs to go out, though.”

“He does? Already?”

“Yes.”

Anna frowned. “Then why did he pee in the kitchen?”

“Uh ... “

”You didn’t leave him alone for awhile, did you, Kendra?”

“Uh ... “

”Kendra? Are you
blushing
?”

“I, uh, I was
playing
with him,” Kendra said. “And he got so excited, he piddled.”

Anna still frowned. She felt strangely suspicious of her daughter –
strangely
because it was something that had never happened before. She’d never before had any reason to be suspicious of Kendra. But the stammering and the bright pink flush of her face was vaguely suspicious.

BOOK: Trailer Park Noir
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